


Focus On Me

by JustSomeAsshole



Series: Thomas Gibson [5]
Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Anxiety Disorder, Caring Aaron Hotchner, Cunnilingus, F/M, Face Slapping, Implied Consent, Kissing, Light Dom/sub, Penis In Vagina Sex, Reader Has ADHD Because I Have ADHD, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-24
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-03-12 07:47:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29631372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustSomeAsshole/pseuds/JustSomeAsshole
Summary: When you get overwhelmed Hotch knows how to calm you down.
Relationships: Aaron Hotchner/Reader
Series: Thomas Gibson [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2154426
Kudos: 10





	Focus On Me

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own Criminal Minds.

Hotch is staring at you as you ramble, words just pouring from your mouth in a nervous stream of consciousness while your fingers fidget and rub the dry skin over your knuckles. It's hard to even know what you're saying but you'r panicking and breathing and it feels as though your brain is starting to go into meltdown. Hotch narrows his eyes and you try to focus on him, on his face, his arms, his suit, but you can't land a thought without your head doing backflips and making it hurt to concentrate. You can consciously feel your eyes losing focus and you blink over and over again, rubbing hard hands over your lids until lines of colour spark into the darkness and you still can't think. 

"Stop" somewhere in the back of your head you register that Hotch is talking to you but it's like his voice is submerged in ink, you rub harder at your eyes to no avail. 

There's a hard grip on your wrists and Hotch is pulling your hands down from your face and leaving them by your sides, you open your eyes and breathe with a tight chest. He's staring at you still. 

"Stop thinking" 

You can hear him only slightly clearer, the words clicked against his teeth, deep, sinister, pouring from his mouth in such a tone you know you can't muster the train of thought to respond. Blood is rushing to the surface of your cheeks. Too much blood, it's making you blush pink and somehow feel his eyes moving down your body, waltzing down your torso to the heat between your legs that holds his gaze. So preoccupied with his eyes Hotch's hands play no main focus in your mind, not before the unsettling chill of his fingertips brushes the pink in your cheek in a confusing contrast. Your lips vibrate when a shaky breath escapes your lungs, lungs that feel all too small in his presence. 

Hotch draws back his hand and suddenly a stroke of pain blows across your face, throwing your head back against the wall. It clears your head for a few seconds and for a moment you're not thinking of anything. You let out a yelp. A broken, desperate yelp. You don't intend to but your throat tightens on impact and reacts to the sting. Weight is hanging from your lashes, it hurts to look up at the burning dark eyes dauntingly poised above you but you can't stop. Something telling you to look at the man responsible for a deeper pink spreading over the left side of your face. Pain. You catch his glare with no prior expections but there is no remorse, a jolting lack of empathy in his irises that sinks into your skin and burns a patch of arousal into your stomach. You feel sick, not at him - but at your own response to violence that would lead anyone else into anger. Something twisting into your spine and floating around your brain, casting clouds over your thoughts and turning everything foggy again. 

He's looking at you, into you, and your eyes are turning wet, you try to blink away the reaction. 

Hotch's hand rises to your face like before, you don't flinch - or turn away from the touch, rather you let his thumb wipe away a droplet or two that had fallen to the rise of your cheeks. His skin is warmer than before, less startling, and he looks at you with a questioning unevenness in his eyebrows. You know you had seen that exact look many times before and so in preparation to vocalise a response you swallow back a dryness in your throat. You can hear it. 

"I'm okay" 

The answer to his unspoken question comes from your lips like a whisper in a Church, you speak softly and yet the sound seems to echo in your head. Bouncing between the two of you until Hotch's face visibly relaxes.

"Tell me what you need" He asks. What did you need? The words ring in your head and Hotch keeps looking at you with those eyes. The only thing you can think about is the possibility of his lips pressing against yours, kissing you and taking every last breath from your lungs, and thought from your head as his hands cradle your face. Suddenly you find your head moving towards him to try and capture his mouth, lips in search of contact. 

His hand. Long fingers stretch around the length of your neck and your head is suddenly back against the wall, your body connecting with the brick in a resounding thud. 

"I said tell me, not show me" the stern tone to his voice makes your spine tingle and you have to try and remember how to speak again. 

"Kiss me" you say quietly, almost a sob as you hold back the accompanying emotion. 

Then he smiles, a small, comforting smile, keeping his hand on your throat Hotch leans in to fulfil your wishes. Soft lips brushing your own before he begins to press harder, parting his way to kiss you against the wall. His tongue is soft, warm, sliding between your lips and grazing past your teeth. You can't help but moan slightly as he puts more power behind his movements, giving you little time to react or move as he tightens his hand and holds you still. He's kissing you with a control and devotion and doesn't let you move to gain power over the action, he's pushing his mouth onto, into yours and pulling the air from your lungs in a practised display of dominance. It helps, he helps. Hotch knows exactly what to do and how to stop your brain from fizzing out into an anxious mess and you were never more grateful for him. His hands hold your cheek and your hip and his teeth press into your lip softly then firmly and you moan again at the delightful pressure. 

When Hotch pulls away you lean in to follow him but he's holding you back against the wall and you quietly whine at the loss of contact. 

"Good" he states low with something similar to a smile in his tone and you blush again from the almost compliment. 

"Come with me"

It doesn't take long for you to follow him into his bedroom, the bed seems comfortable with dark blue sheets and pillows and Hotch is gently pushing you down onto the surface, you sit up on the side of the mattress. There's an atmosphere of tense calm surrounding you, and while your head's no longer spinning you still feel the remnants of being overwhelmed floating in your nerves, it's hard not to get trapped in that cycle of thought and you felt lucky that Hotch understood you.

His hand is flat on your shoulder, it makes you breathe tighter when he lays you down on your back and quietly kisses your neck. It's nice. Soft presses of his lips warming the sensitive skin and you hum pleasantly. You let yourself get taken away by the feel of his body and hands and mouth and he's unbuttoning your pants with steady fingers, pulling away from your neck to shift the waistband down your legs and soon he has you half naked with your knees spread and bent. He's looking up at you with those eyes and you smile softly. 

"You okay?" He asks, gentle hands holding your knees. You nod as best you could not trusting your voice to be smooth and Hotch gives you a smile. 

Your eyes slowly drift shut when his tongue flattens against your entrance, your legs are spread as far as you get them and a soft hum fleas your mouth as he laps at your cunt. Slow strokes up and down, gathering wetness at the tip of his tongue and avoiding your clit to pay attention to your opening. He's taking his time and letting you relax into the ministrations, the hard yet gentle press of his tongue massaging you and making your arousal grow on his taste buds. Hotch's eyes occasionally flicker up to see your head laid back on the sheets, your mouth hung open slightly. 

When he brushes the pad of his wet tongue over your clit he watches your eyebrows burrow with a silent moan forming on your lips, a soft wave of pleasure cascading over your cunt. He begins to lick more at your clit, circling and stroking and pressing against the sides to avoid the overly sensitive areas, then he's _sucking_ the bud between his lips and a moan clenches from your chest to fall between you, your hands gripping the sheets at the pressure. You can feel yourself relaxing and opening wider with slick forming under his mouth. 

It's making your head spin, the way Hotch licks at you and rubs his tongue in circles to put just the right amount of pressure on you, there's a cloud in the front of your mind and you're focusing on the pleasure but it's making you drift away into your own consciousness. Eyes falling back into your head your grip on the sheets vanishes, he's fucking his tongue inside you, feeling every line and ridge of your inner skin and you can feel his breath on your clit. 

It feels good, you're registering the ball of pleasure in your core but you can't quite give in to his touch and his mouth, your head is running at 90mph still, your inner monologue telling you to relax and enjoy the way it feels and you want to, you really do but your brain remembers a list of things you haven't done yet today. There's washing up piled in the sink and Hotch has a finger crooking up into you, you haven't folded your laundry yet and his tongue is flicking at your clit. 

But the touch is gone, you can't feel the gentle thrum of pleasure anymore. 

"Hey" he says shortly, a hint of dominance making your ears twitch. "I told you to stop thinking" Hotch is speaking at you. "Let go" he knows. You can do that, yeah you can let go. You nod shallowly and murmer a quiet "okay" 

You were expecting the feeling of his mouth to return between your legs but Hotch stands straight and starts unbuckling his pants, he pulls the belt free and _damn._ When his black work pants are kicked off his ankles you watch his face move over you, his body hovers above yours and you can only breathe at the feel of his cock pressing against your thigh. When did he get hard? You close your eyes to prevent the stream of thought that would surely follow the question, only trying to concentrate on the way his body is warm against you. 

"Look at me" he orders, your eyes shoot open and he's glaring down into you and his cock is right at your entrance,he aims with his hand and _pushes_ into you so slow and deep and your mouth falls open. Hotch's groan is so soft and low and your cunt clenches around him.

You whine quietly, the desperation to feel him fuck you into the bed like he's done so many times before, quickly overtakes any previous anxiety. You can see that tiny smirk appearing at the noise you made, something mildly evil and so very Hotch. He grinds himself forward even more, impossibly tight inside you and _fuck_ he circles his hips and won't move out to thrust inside you, just pushes his cock right into that spot so deep inside you that your eyes water. This time the whine is higher and you clutch at his forearm in a physical plea for him to move. 

He leans down further towards you, bending his elbows to plant his face next to your neck, keeping that strong push inside you. You marvel at the strength of his arms practically holding a push-up position above you.

"Feel that?" He's asking you a question, an unfair and obvious question, he wants you to focus entirely on him and he's got his wish, you can't exactly think about anything else but the fact that he's pressing so warm in your cunt. You bite your lip at the moan in his voice. "Feel how hard you make me" oh god he thrusts out to fuck his hips hard inside you. It incites a rhythm of fast, hard movements of his erection drilling inside you.

Hotch's forehead presses tight into the mattress, when he thrusts faster his hands falls to your leg to grip your thigh and spread you further than you thought possible. Warm fingertips dig into his muscled back and you're moaning and cursing under your breath in a litany of pleasure. 

"Aaron" you whimper. "Fuck, Hotch" your voice is higher pitched than you would have liked it but he's fucking hammering himself inside you and his pelvis scrapes over your clit to put amazing pressure on your core. 

"God" he grunts, "fuck" his voice is so deep and hot you whine when he leans up and throws your ankles over his shoulder. Your body is stretched up and he's hitting your g spot and you want to cum already. You really want to cum. 

"Oh my God-" you moan, your hands clenching at the sheets with your back arched. "Don't stop" you sob, Hotch _pounds_ into you and you practically feel the bruising that is bound to form on your ankles from the grip his fingers have around your legs. Looking up at him and he's got that face and those eyes and the crinkled line on his forehead that makes you so utterly weak. He's grunting and groaning and you're close. 

"Fuck fuck Hotch, Hotch don't st-" your eyes falling back as a inaudible scream presses out your mouth, orgasm runs throughout your body and you're clenching and pulsing around his cock so hard you can feel it in your asshole. He continues to fuck his hips forward and all you can do is moan weakly. 

Hotch groans your name and then he's pulling out to grab your hips and manhandle you to bend over the bed, your ass back against him and you feel him slide inside you again. Fucking into you from behind at an amazing angle with his hand in your goddamn _hair_. 

"Fuck Y/N" you think he's getting close, the breathlessness in his voice and the timbre in the way he speaks. "Shit" yeah Hotch is very close, you clench as hard as you can around him to make him moan and _thrust_ your ass back against him to make sure he's inside you as deep as possible. You want to be able to feel him when he cums.

Hotch moans and curses and then his hips are shaking when hot cum explodes inside you, a shaky gasp as he pulses and let's out streams of climax. 

He waits for a minute before he eventually pulls out, you feel the drip of his cum down your thigh and you shiver. "Damn" you say, impressed. 

"Something like that" 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, lemme know what you thought!


End file.
